


Help

by Willowli



Category: Camp Camp (Web Series)
Genre: !!!!, And Lots of It, Angst, Constructive Criticism Welcome, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, For the most part, Hurt/Comfort, I love dadvid, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Just let him adopt max already, Light Angst, Swearing, Thank You!, The whole gang's at least mentioned, all good vibes here, also NOT M/A/X/V/I/D, always looking for ways to improve, dadvid, i hate sad endings so don't worry :), seriously though if you ship david and max i will fucking eat your kneecaps
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-24
Updated: 2019-07-11
Packaged: 2020-05-18 18:14:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,599
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19339912
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Willowli/pseuds/Willowli
Summary: It's the final straw. The breaking point. The end of the line. Max is done living his fucked up life in his fucked up house with his fucked up parents. He finally realizes that he needs a way out, and David just might be the one who can help him.





	1. Starting Again

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, Willowli here! Welcome to my first fic in the Camp Camp fandom, and my second fic ever! Thank you so much for giving this a read, I really appreciate it! Any criticism at all is welcomed, so if you have anything to say, please leave a comment!  
> Thank you, again, for reading! I hope you enjoy it!

                Max stood in the middle of his room, shaking from head to toe. He desperately wanted to crawl into the back corner of his too-large closet and hide behind the rows of too-nice clothes. He wanted to curl up with Mr. HoneyNuts and watch videos on his phone. He wanted to do something, _anything_ to distract himself from the world he was in. He just wanted to forget everything, even if it was just for a little while.

                But Max didn’t move. He felt frozen in place, knowing that even the lightest of steps would send shocks of pain up and down his body. He looked down at his arms and legs, the fresh bruises blossoming on his skin. They were currently pink and red, but he knew would turn sickly shades of blue and purple within the next day or so. Every muscle, every bone was stinging, even though Max was motionless. His head was throbbing, and the lights in his room felt too bright.

                Max didn’t cry. That was a constant in his life. Max wasn’t weak, and he didn’t cry, no matter what they did or said to him. But as he stood on the off-white carpet of his pristine bedroom, his eyes stung as the tears involuntarily built up. He watched in a sick mixture of anger and frustration as a drop fell from his face on to the carpet, leaving a dark spot in its wake. He instinctively reached up to wipe his eyes with the sleeve of his hoodie, and hissed in pain as his body screamed in protest. It felt like his limbs were on fire. Max’s hands shook as he stood still, unwilling to move again.

                “Fucking idiot,” Max scolded himself under his breath. Even if he wanted to speak louder, his shortness of breath would have made it impossible. It felt like his lungs were being constricted in his chest. He tried to sniff and stop the tears, but it just got caught in his throat.

                Max gingerly made his way over to his bed, his muscles groaning with every movement. He slowly sunk down onto the carpet, unwilling to try to climb up onto the bed that was too tall for him, gritting his teeth as he connected with the floor. He should have been used to pain by then, honestly. But he wasn’t, and it made him furious. He should have been stronger. He _had_ to be stronger.

                Max carefully checked his arms, legs, feet, hands, neck and torso, feeling around for anything too out of place. As far as he could tell, nothing was broken, it just _really fucking hurt._ He had scrapes on his arms and legs that were bleeding slightly, but there was no way he was leaving his room to go wash them. He reached up and felt around his head, and found only bumps that stung. So, nothing needed _immediate_ medical attention, but he was definitely not unscathed.

                Max’s relief that he was (relatively) okay soon turned to bubbling anger. He was angry at his father for everything, angry at his mother for letting everything happen. He was angry at his house, with its ginormous size and cleanliness that made him feel small and ugly in comparison. He was angry at all the rules and all the consequences for breaking them. But, more than anything, he was angry at himself. Why did he have to go and open his stupid big mouth? He knew how their game worked, so why could he never play along? Why did he feel the need to rebel? What good has it ever done for him? He just needed to stop being such a goddamn screw-up.

                Max knew he just needed to stop trying. But the angry, defiant side of him wouldn’t let go. It was the hopeful, turbulent part of his mind refused to give in. As much as he told himself to just listen to them, a voice in his head would just say, _this isn’t right. This isn’t fair._

                Max closed his eyes and rested his head of the side of the bed behind him. He saw nothing but darkness and the faint imprints of lights floating behind his eyelids. A part of him really wished he wouldn’t have to open them ever again, that he could just sleep and never _ever_ be woken up. He sat like that, no energy or willpower to move, letting the pain wash over him in dull waves. There was nothing more he could do.

                Suddenly, Max heard heavy footsteps coming up the stairs and down the hall, getting louder every second. He felt them in his chest, and suddenly his heart was pounding again. He shot to his feet, ignoring the agony he was putting his body through. He swiftly wiped his face of any remaining tears. He could not, _would not_ let them see that he cried. He held his breath as the footsteps got closer and closer to his room.

                Max tried not to flinch as the door flew open and his father took a step into his room. He didn’t look furious anymore, he just looked like he was back to his normal level of perpetual anger. Max stood at his full height and lifted his chin to meet his father’s gaze. He hoped he looked braver and calmer than he felt. He wasn’t sure how he was still standing up, especially since his legs were not only in pain, but felt about as strong as toothpicks.

                Max struggled to stay upright as his father looked him up and down. Under his dark, steely eyes, Max felt about a foot tall. Max didn’t say a word or move a muscle as his father watched him closely. Max found it hard to breathe as he stood. His mouth was dry, and his palms were sweaty. He felt like his entire body was trembling with a combination of fear and anticipation. What was he going to say? What was he going to do?

                It was maybe a minute or of waiting until Max’s father sighed deeply. His voice and gaze were stony as he finally spoke. “I’m _incredibly_ disappointed in you, Maxwell.”

                Even though he hated it when he was called Maxwell, Max knew how he needed to respond. He’d been in this situation more times than he could count. “I know. I’m sorry. I won’t let it happen again.”

                “I hope you won’t, or the consequences will be _dire._ ” Max’s father warned, emphasizing the word “dire.”

                _More dire that what you did today?_ Max was tempted to retort, but he didn’t dare. Talking back never accomplished anything. Boy, did he want to though.

                “As punishment for your behavior today, your mother and I have decided to ground you for the rest of the night. You will stay in your room. You will not be eating dinner tonight. You will study until 9:00, when you will then go to bed. I do not want to hear a peep from you all night, or you won’t get breakfast tomorrow, either. We don’t believe these terms are unreasonable. Do you agree?”

                Max’s father always asked him if he agreed. If Max told him that he didn’t, he would get angry. If he said he did, he would be significantly _less_ angry. That was how it went. Even if the punishment was unreasonable, and/or the _reason_ for the punishment was unreasonable, Max needed to agree. So, he dutifully replied, “Yes, Father.”

                “Good. Remember, not a sound.” Max’s father pointed and stared Max down as he slowly exited the room.

                “Yes, Father,” Max repeated, sounding like a broken record. As his father closed the door, he heard the lock click. Great. He was trapped. Fuckin’ fantabulous.

                As soon as the door was fully closed and locked, Max flipped his father off with both hands. It was his own little way to rebel, even if it was functionally useless. It was an outlet for his rage, though, however small it was.

                Max’s body groaned in protest as he made his way over to his closet. It was basically a walk-in based on how huge it was. There were too many clothes that he didn’t like and never wore. The only good thing about it was that it was big enough and had enough clothes to make a safe and comfortable hiding space.

                Tucked in the back corner, behind several long coats and pants, Max kept everything important to him. Hidden in a stack of blankets was Mr. HoneyNuts. His parents had demanded he throw him out years ago. Big kids didn’t need stuffed animals, according to them. But Max kept him, because he was the only friend he had in that godforsaken house. Next to Mr. HoneyNuts was a photo of Gwen, David, Quartermaster, and all the campers that was taken at the end of the summer. On the back of the photo were signatures and notes from all of the other campers. He had a picture of his grandmother, the last relative who had been kind to him. He could hardly remember her voice; she had died so many years ago. His Camp Campbell shirt was folded in with the blankets, too. Those four items were the only things that ever brought him comfort. He hated that he needed them, but every time he though about throwing them away, he felt sick.

                Max crept through the hanging clothes until he reached his corner. He huffed angrily as he sat down, and he immediately reached for Mr. HoneyNuts. He held the stuffed animal close as tears threatened to fall again. _No, no, no, absolutely fucking not. I am_ not _crying over this. I’m stronger than this. I don’t need to cry._

Max was past sadness at that point. He was _furious._ Furious at his parents for being so cruel, mad at the world that would put at ten-year-old through the things he had, disappointed in himself for being such an idiot and a pussy. Max felt his banged-up fingers curl into tight fists. His chest heaved angrily, and he was sure he had on a look that could cut glass. He was so _sick_ of living in his house, in his life. He wanted to leave, he _needed_ to get out. He was _done_ with waiting around for things to get better. He was tired of hoping for a better day that would never come.

                He needed to escape, and he needed to do it as soon as possible.

                Max pulled out the Camp Campbell picture. He had read the messages on the back more times than he’d like to admit, but it always gave him comfort. Max spotted Neil’s distinct neat handwriting in the bottom right corner of the page.

                _“If I don’t get nominated for a prestigious award soon, or I don’t have my work published in a scientific journal this year, I guess I’ll see you at camp next summer! I’ll try to convince my parents to buy me some_ real _equipment, and maybe we can finally finish that flamethrower and set David’s hair on fire! See you soon – Neil_

Max rolled his eyes, and they traveled to the very middle of the page, where Nikki had scrawled a note in her sketchy, wobbly handwriting.

                _“MAAAXX! Thanks for all the fun adventures! I feel like next year we should go BIGGER! I’m thinking, since we didn’t get to use the bees, we could go for SPIDERS! There’s more of them in the forest, I think? Also, more legs means more hugs! Can’t wait for next summer! -Your BEST FRIEND, Nikki!_

                Max smiled slightly at the messages from his friends. As much as he hated camp, it was the one place with people he could actually tolerate. The one place where he could do whatever the hell he wanted.

                Even though everyone at camp was insufferable, he had to admit he really missed them. They all seemed to _like_ him _,_ even though he was always an asshole. Even though her seemingly endless energy was exhausting, Nikki was (with the exception of Camp Cool Kids) loyal, enthusiastic, and one hell of a troublemaker. Neil’s ginormous ego and obsession with proving himself made him irritating beyond measure, but he _was_ smart, always knew how to get into and out of mischief, and he understood Max better than anyone. Gwen was the _shittiest_ camp counselor, but she was a pretty cool and chill person that made camp bearable. Max even missed people like Space Kid _,_ who never lost his annoying can-do attitude, even though Max constantly tried to make him loose his faith in space travel. Heck, he even missed _David._

Max’s head suddenly shot up, which sent a wave of pain across his temple. He gritted his teeth and squeezed his eyes shut, willing the searing pain away.

                _David._ He was the obnoxious overbearing, ridiculously cheerful counselor that made his summer a living nightmare.

                He was also the only adult who ever really showed him unconditional kindness.

                David was exasperating like that. Max treated him like literal shit the entire summer, and David still kept smiling his idiotic smile. He never stopped trying to make Max have fun, he never stopped being infernally happy and overly supportive. It seemed like he didn’t have an ounce of self-preservation or even the slightest bit of selfishness. He was so _confusing,_ so _infuriating._

He was probably the nicest person Max had ever met.

                David would probably do literally _anything_ for his campers, which never made any sense to Max. Why work so hard for other people that just put you down? But that was just who David was. He was selfless to a fault.

                And maybe he could be Max’s ticket out of his house.

                The more Max thought about it, the more enticing the idea became. David would help Max; he was sure of it. David already had. Max didn’t have money for bus tickets. He needed someone who could drive. He needed someone who would listen to him, someone who would take him seriously. Someone who lived close enough to reach him soon. David lived about 45 minutes away, Max knew that from the numerous times he had stolen his phone. David would hear him out and not think he was just some silly kid. David would care about him, which was more than he could say about his parents. So even though being around David was a headache and a half, it had to be better than the hell he was living in.

                Max scrolled through his phone’s contacts until he came across David’s. He had stolen David’s number way back at camp and used it for prank calls. Now Max was going to use it to _actually_ call David. Jesus, he lived in a fucked-up world.

Max stared at the number on his phone, his thumb hovering over the call button. Was he really going to go through with it? And even if he _did_ call, would David even be able to do anything?

He glanced through the spaces in-between the clothes hanging in the closet that he never wore. His eyes went from the locked door of his room, to the open books on his desk that was too large for him to properly work on, then back to the door. He felt the bruises and scrapes on his body, and made up his mind as his face settled into a glare.

He _was_ going to go through with it. He had no other choice. He had no way of knowing what was going to happen. But it had to be better. As he looked down at his bruised limbs, Max had a sudden realization that sent shivers up his spine.

If he kept living the way he was, he was _going_ to die. Sooner or later, it would happen, unless he did something.

Max tapped the call button before he could chicken out. He wrapped his arms around his knees and hugged Mr. HoneyNuts tighter as he held the phone up to his face.

One ring…

Max held his breath.

Two rings…

Max silently pleaded for David to pick up, before he shook his head at how idiotic he was being.

Three rings…

_Jesus Christ, David, answer your goddamn phone!_

Four rings…

What was taking so long? What if Max was sent to voicemail? What kind of message would he leave? Maybe it would be better to just give up.

Five rings….

Max closed his eyes. Of course. He was being a dumbass. He didn’t need to make his problems David’s too. He didn’t deserve that

Six rings…

Max sighed and slowly lowered the phone.

Sev- “Hello?”

Max nearly had a heart attack at the sound. His phone flew back to his ear and he smacked a bump on the side of his head in the process. As a result, a brief flash of pain engulfed him and he covered his mouth to smother the sounds that threatened to spill out.

“…Hello?” The voice said again, hesitantly this time. It was unmistakably David’s. Normally, David’s overly cheerful voice would annoy the fuck out of Max, but that day it sent a wave of calming relief over him.

_For fuck’s sake, I’m happy to talk to_ David _? Jesus Christ, I really_ have _hit rock bottom,_ Max thought in disappointment. But he couldn’t (or didn’t try to) stop himself as he quietly choked out, in a smaller and more relieved voice than he intended, “David.”

“Max?” David’s shocked words were way too loud through the speaker. If he kept it up, Max’s parents were bound to hear him. Max gritted his teeth and his heart started pounding again as David asked, “Is that you?”

“Shut up, David! Don’t talk so fucking loud,” Max hissed into the receiver, and he winced. There he was, scolding the person he had called for help, one minute in to the conversation. Of _course_ he was fucking everything up.

“It _is_ you, Max!” David responded happily, completely unfazed, and his voice thankfully much quieter. “It’s great to hear from you again! But… How’d you get this number?”

Max closed his eyes, alreadyfrustrated. “That doesn’t matter.”

There was a brief pause. “…Is everything alright, Max?” David replied gently, the level of concern in his voice not something Max was used to. At all.

For a split second, Max debated dropping the whole thing. He tormented David for the whole summer, why on earth would he even _consider_ listening to Max? He’d probably just laugh. Or worse, call his parents. That would be a nightmare. He should just forget about it. He had survived _this_ long, what was another seven and a half years?

But then he remembered Parent’s Day. He remembered how David had dropped everything for him. How he had sacrificed his whole career, his _dream job,_ just for Max. David’s words that night suddenly came back to him, clear as day.

_“…Pretending like things are okay when they’re not doesn’t help anything.”_

“Max?” David quietly interrupted Max’s memory. Max closed his eyes, and took a deep, steadying breath.

“…No.” Max answered after a long pause. God, he hated how weak he sounded. “Everything’s not alright. Nothing’s alright.” As he went on, his voice cracked, and he cursed himself for being so emotional.

“What’s wrong, Max?” David sounded even _more_ worried. Max didn’t think it was possible.

“I…” Max’s throat felt like it was closing up. “I need help.”

“Of course I’ll help you, Max!” Even though he was obviously still concerned, Max could almost hear his smile. He was still David, after all. “What do you need help with?”

“I can’t stay here,” Max blurted out, louder than what was safe. He quickly covered his mouth with the fabric of his hoodie’s sleeve. He cursed himself out in his mind for being so _stupid._ He heard footsteps coming up the stairs, and his eyes went wide.

“What-” David began, but Max shushed him quickly.

“Shut up, shut up! Don’t say a word until I get back!” He whispered, terror creeping its way into his voice.

For once, David listened, and he was silent as Max crawled out of the closet as quickly and quietly as possible. He shoved the phone under his pillow and shot into his desk chair, despite his aching muscles. He flipped a couple pages forwards in the biology book and picked up a pencil and his notebook. He frantically started writing down vocabulary words and their definitions, blood pounding in his ears, adrenaline rushing through his system. He barely had time to react when the lock clicked and his door flung open.

“What was that noise?” Max’s father demanded. Instantly, Max sat up straighter in his chair and slowly swiveled around to face him. It was hard, because Max’s feet didn’t even touch the ground.

“I, uh… was having a difficult time finding the answer to the last question on this chapter’s review section, and when I figured it out, I said it too loud. I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.” Max quickly explained. _Really, Max? That’s the best lie you could think of? You fucking idiot._

Max felt like he was wilting under his father’s scrutinizing gaze. He stared down at Max for what felt like an eternity before he finally leaned back.

“Keep working,” was all he said before he unceremoniously shut the door. Max heard the lock click again, and he sighed in relief.

His legs felt like jelly as he soundlessly slid off the chair, retrieved his phone, and crawled back into the corner of his closet.

“Back,” Max murmured, feeling even more drained that he did before. God, his bruises hurt.

“What happened?” David questioned him. Max just shook his head, before realizing that David couldn’t see him.

“I can’t,” Max squeaked. He growled in frustration at his lack of control over his voice, anger rising inside him again.

“Okay, that’s okay. I don’t need to know,” David said soothingly. “So, what’s going on?”

Max opened his mouth, but no sound came out. He didn’t know what to say. How much did he tell David? How much was safe? What if his father heard again?

Max felt like he couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move, couldn’t think. He just wanted to get out. He didn’t know what to do. He felt around for Mr. HoneyNuts, and when he found him, he buried his face in the fabric of the bear’s stomach.

“Are you in a place where you can’t talk? Is that why you had to leave? Someone heard you?” David suddenly asked. Max was shocked that he had picked up on all that. Okay, so, maybe David wasn’t as big of an idiot as he thought.

“Yes,” Max answered, barely audible.

“Okay, okay,” It sounded like David was searching for something. Max could have sworn he heard a pen click. “Could I ask you some yes or no questions?”

“Yeah,” Max was suddenly grateful. David’s nonstop taking was typically grating, but Max was glad to not have to do the explaining.

“Are you at your house right now?”

“Yes.”

David didn’t speak for a moment, and Max though he could hear writing on the other end. “Okay, so, you’re at home. But you don’t feel safe, right?”

“Yes.”

Again, there was a pause. Then, “And you can’t speak very loud because someone might hear you and get angry?”

“Yes.”

“Your parents?” David guessed.

“Yeah.”

“Are you hurt?”

Max was silent for a moment. Then, he reluctantly admitted, “Yes.”

He heard David suck in a quick breath. “On a scale of one to ten, one being barely injured, and ten being dead, how badly are you hurt right now?”

“That’s stupid,” Max protested, ignoring the question.

“ _Max_ ,” There was a kind of desperate edge to the way David said his name that made Max immediately feel guilty.

Max thought about it for a moment, before he finally answered, “Six… and a half? Maybe seven?”

“Okay. So, you called me for help. Do you want me to call the police?”

“NO,” Max ordered, his voice quiet but firm.

“Okay, okay, don’t worry, I promise I won’t call the police,” David talked quickly. “Earlier you said that you couldn’t stay “here.” I’m assuming you mean your house. Is there anywhere nearby you could go?”

Max looked over at his locked door. “No.”

“No friends or family that you could go to for help?”

“No. Can’t,” Max told him simply.

“You can’t leave? Are you locked in the house?”

“In my room, yeah.”

Max didn’t believe it, but he thought he heard something that sounded a lot like “shit” come out of David’s mouth. “Do you have a window you could leave out of?”

“No. Maybe?” Max was on the second floor. There was a tree _kinda_ close to his room that he could maybe use to climb down, but it was risky. And potentially loud. And he was most likely not able to make the jump, in his current physical condition.

“Are you in immediate danger of being hurt again?”

Max pondered this question. _Was_ he? “I… I don’t think so.”

“Okay. Is there a time when you _won’t_ be locked in your room? When you could leave without anyone knowing?”

“Yes!” Max responded, suddenly excited. His parents were going to a fancy business lunch the next day to celebrate one of his father’s many career successes. He wasn’t even sure what kind of businessman his dad was, but whatever it was, it made them a lot of money. “Tomorrow, around noon.”

“Your parents will be gone tomorrow? And they’re leaving you alone?”

“Yeah.”

David was quiet for a few seconds. Max waited, just as silent.

“If you can get out of the house, I can pick you up. You can stay with me until we figure everything out. Would that be okay with you?”

Max was stunned. David would do that for him? After everything he’d put him through, he’d still drop everything to rescue him? Max hesitated before he asked, “…Really? You’d do that?”

“Absolutely! I don’t want you to be in any kind of danger, Max! I think it’s super-duper important to get you out of your house as soon as possible,” David reassured him.

“But… what about the police? Isn’t this like… kidnapping or some shit?”

“We can worry about that later,” David waved off his questions. He didn’t sound entirely sure of himself, though. “Listen, Max. Everything’s going to be okay, alright? I’m going to help you. We’re going to get you out of this, okay?”

Max didn’t know how to take that. Nobody had ever said something like that to him. It was so supportive. So kind. It made Max worry that David had an ulterior motive.

“Okay, Max?” David repeated, the same kind of desperation creeping into his words.

“Yeah, okay,” Max agreed, sounding half-hearted but entirely genuine. “I… Thanks, David.”

Max could hear David’s smile, like the one he had on outside of the pizza shop when he promised to not tell anyone that Max hugged him, as David said, “You’re welcome, Max.”

“If you need anything, just text or call me. I’ll answer as soon as I can,” David promised. “Oh, you’ll need to send me your address, too.”

“Okay,” Max agreed, no fight left in him.

“You really should get to sleep, though,” David offered, his voice shifting from gentle concern to Camp Counselor Mode™. “You’ve got a big day tomorrow!”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” Max snarked, feeling some of his familiar anger towards David return. God, it was impossible to not get a headache from being around him for too long. But he was Max’s only way out. “Don’t tell anyone about this.”

“I won’t, Ma-” Max hung up before David could finish.

Max shuffled out of the closet and over to the desk. The clock read 5:56 PM.

It was going to be a long night.


	2. Asymptotic

              “I won’t, Ma-,” David said, but before he could finish his sentence, the call ended.

              David leaned over to his iPad and ended the recording voice memo. He needed evidence to show the police. They were going to get involved eventually, it was just a matter of time.

              He immediately dropped his head on the table and let the tears he was holding back spill out.

              How could he have been so _stupid?_ He saw all the red flags. Max hardly got any letters or gifts at camp. His entire _attitude_ was a warning sign. And then, his parents didn’t even show up for parent’s day. He should have been smart enough to put the pieces together. He shouldn’t have let Max go home with them. He _knew_ that it wasn’t safe, and he still did nothing. He gave up so easily. Why hadn’t he tried a little harder? Now Max was hurt, and probably in more danger than he let on, and David could have prevented it. He was supposed to protect his campers, not willingly send them into peril.

              David slowly lifted his head off the table, wiping his eyes.

_Now is not the time for crying,_ David thought decisively. _You have to stay strong. For Max._

              David looked down at his notepad. He had written down everything he knew about Max’s situation.

               Max was at his house, but he wasn’t safe. He couldn’t talk loudly, or his parents would hear him. And even though Max didn’t say it, it was clear that if they heard him, they would hurt him. He was already injured; about a six or a seven, so something pretty serious. Even though he was obviously in danger, he didn’t want the police involved. Maybe he thought that they would side with his parents, or that they wouldn’t believe him. But if he was hurt, they had to see what was really going on, right?

              Max had no family or friends nearby. His parents had locked him in his room. It sounded like he _did_ have a window, but not one that he could safely climb out of, especially if he was hurt. He _said_ that he wasn’t in immediate danger, but if he couldn’t speak too loud in fear of being hurt again, then he _was_ in immediate danger. And the only time he would be able to get out was the next day, at noon.

              More important than all of that, was the fact that Max felt scared enough to call for help. _Max_ called for help. And out of everyone he knew, he called David. David would have been overjoyed that Max trusted him enough to ask him for help, if the reason he was asking for help wasn’t so serious.

              David leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms. That was all he knew about Max’s situation. He didn’t know anything else about his parents, or his house, or his injuries. He hoped that it was the first time he had been hurt by his parents, but deep down, he knew that that probably wasn’t true. David sighed, and covered his face with his hands.

              He didn’t understand how anyone could do something like hurt a child. They’re so impressionable. It was no wonder why Max always had such a bad attitude at camp. It just reflected his bad home life. David should have seen it sooner. He should have intervened sooner. He should have done _something._

_Don’t think like that,_ David chastised himself. _What’s done is done. All you can do now is wait. You can’t do anything else to help._

              David sat for a moment, before he quickly rose from his chair and scooped up his notepad and iPad. He hurried over to his computer, channeled his inner Gwen, and muttered, “The hell I can’t.”

              He wasn’t just going to sit there, twiddling his thumbs. Not while one of his campers was in trouble. Not while _Max_ was in trouble. He had to stay positive. He had to keep going.

              David booted up his computer and got to work.

              He had some research to do.

 

…

 

              “Maxwell!” Max’s father called from his bedroom doorway. Max looked up from the ridiculously boring math textbook he was “working” in and turned to face his father.

              “Yes?”

              “Your mother and I are going out to lunch. We’ll be back around 1:30. By that time, I expect you to have read and completed the review pages of chapters 12 and 13.”

              “Yes, Father,” Max replied placidly.

              “Good. See you in an hour and a half,” Max’s father said as he closed Max’s door.

_No you won’t,_ Max thought with a smirk.

              He listened from his desk as his father’s footsteps got quieter and quieter, until he heard a door slam, and then Max couldn’t hear footsteps at all. Max watched from his window as his parents backed out of the driveway and drove down the street. His eyes followed their car until it turned a corner and was out of sight.

              Max didn’t waste time. As soon as the door shut, he pulled his backpack out from the closet and started shoving all the clothes he liked into it. As he was packing, he realized that he had a lot of possessions, but not a lot of things he actually cared about. He stuffed Mr. HoneyNuts, the pictures, and his camp shirt into the bag with ease, even with all of his other clothes. He jammed his phone charger and Nintendo 3Ds into the pockets, and suddenly there was nothing left to take with him. He wasn’t going to bother with going to the bathroom to get his toothbrush and shampoo and stuff. He could buy all that later. All in all, it took him only ten minutes to pack everything he wanted.

              His room looked completely unchanged. The pastel comforter with matching pillows were still placed serenely on his gigantic bed. The decorative, lifeless pictures of landscapes on the walls provided no insight as to what kind of person had lived in that room. It was like he was never even there at all.

_Good,_ Max thought bitterly.

              Max checked his phone, and saw a text from David. _“I’m parked down the street,”_ It read. _“Let me know when I should pull up. Do you need help with anything?”_

_“They just left, so go ahead and park in the driveway. I’ll be out soon, I don’t have very much to bring with me,”_ Max replied quickly.

              Max took one final sweep of the room, to make sure he hadn’t missed anything. Nope. Absolutely nothing of value left. Max didn’t bother looking over his shoulder at his empty bedroom as he opened the door. He wouldn’t miss it.

              The only problem was, the door wouldn’t open.

              Max twisted the handle again, but it wouldn’t budge.

              Max let the backpack slip off his back and on to the ground. He grabbed the doorknob with both hands and turned it with all his might, but it didn’t move.

              “What the fuck!” He exclaimed as he examined the door. The, the realization dawned on him.

              They had locked his door.

              “YOU GODDAMN BASTARDS! YOU MOTHERFUCKERS!” Max shouted in a blind rage as he pounded on the door as hard as he could, pure hatred flooding his veins. “YOU FUCKING SHITHEADS! I HATE YOU! I HATE YOU!”

              Max slammed his fists down on the door again and again in a futile effort to break through. He ran over to his desk, snatched up one of the giant textbooks, and chucked it full-force at the door. It barely made a dent. “I FUCKING HATE YOU! YOU ASSHOLES! FUCK YOU, YOU IDIOTS!”

              He grabbed the book off the ground and started furiously ripping out the pages. Math equations and graphs flew everywhere as the tore up the textbook, all the while screaming, “I HATE YOU! I HATE YOU SO FUCKING MUCH!”

              Max pulled out the last page and crumpled it into a ball. He threw it at the door, but it bounced off and hit him in the head. He growled in rage, but there was no more fight left in him.

              Max dropped onto the floor and stared at the ceiling, his bruises and sore muscles aching. He just felt _tired,_ emotionally and physically. He was _done._ Done with a life that was constantly screwing him over. He looked up at the impossibly smooth ceiling apathetically. He didn’t even bother to try to stop it as he started crying. His entire body shook as he laid on his side, curled up into a ball, and sobbed. He felt like such a baby. Such a mistake. Such a failure. But at that point, he didn’t care. It was over. Nobody was around to help. He was trapped.

              Suddenly, he remembered. _David._

              Max sniffed the tears away and lunged for his phone, which was lying on the floor about a foot from him. There was a new text from David. _“Is everything okay, Max?”_

_“They locked my door again,”_ Max texted back. _“I can’t get out.”_

              Max almost dropped his phone in surprise as it immediately started ringing. Max hastily picked up and held the phone up to his ear. Before he could ever say hello, David interrupted him.

              “I’m coming to get you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the big break between chapters! I've been pretty busy lately!  
> So yeah, this was a shorter chapter! I hope it was still okay.  
> Also, I didn't get a lot of time to check for mistakes, so if you spot anything, be sure to point it out to me! Thank you so much for reading!


	3. Take Flight

 David’s old red Passat station wagon groaned as he took a left, and it rattled pathetically as he slowly started to drive down Copperwood Lane. There was a large empty field to this left, and on his right laid some of the biggest, nicest, newest looking houses David had ever seen.

_Max lives here?_ David thought to himself as he looked up at the gargantuan homes. He mentally kicked himself for making assumptions about Max’s family, especially since he had never _really_ met them. _Well, look on the bright side! Max lives in a very nice house, with plenty of room, and lots of food to eat!_

_You don’t know that for sure,_ the responsible side of his brain argued, and David sighed. With the little information Max had told him, David didn’t believe that his family’s wealth was doing anything to help Max.

The street ended with a cul-de-sac, and David checked his phone for the address Max had given him. 7399 Copperwood Lane, Captina City, New Mexico. As David rounded the cul-de-sac, he looked out his window at a huge white stone house, complete with a three car garage. It matched the picture on google maps. It looked innocent enough, but David couldn’t imagine what horrors lived behind that large maroon door. He didn’t even slow down as he drove past the house, back the way he came.

Now with the field on his right, David parked down the street, out of view of Max’s house. He turned the key and shut off the engine, and checked the time. 11:41. Max said his parents would leave around noon. David had arrived early so he could scope things out. The fact that Max’s parents left him alone for hours on end didn’t sit well with David.

Sometime during his hour long car ride from his town to Max’s, David wondered if it was all some elaborate prank. Would Max do something like convince David that he was in danger, just to make him waste a day and look like an idiot? Maybe he would. But David thought about how _scared_ Max had sounded over the phone, and how he had actually cooperated and answered David’s questions. Somehow, deep down, David knew that Max needed his help, and he wasn’t going to let _anything_ get in his way. Even his own mind.

David tried to be as inconspicuous as possible, but he was afraid that his bright red, very old, and very not-in-good-shape car would give him away. He picked up his phone and shot Max a text.

_“I’m parked down the street. Let me know when I should pull up.”_ David hesitated before hitting send. He hastily added, “ _Do you need help with anything?”_

David didn’t expect a response right away. So, he put on headphones, turned on an interesting sounding episode of the Outside/in podcast (Hunting The Night Parrot), and hunkered down, waiting for a text from Max.

David tried to listen to the podcast, he really did. But he was just too on edge. Every time a car drove past, he jumped in his seat, and tried to slouch down in an attempt to not be seen. After about the fifth car, David realized that his efforts to look like he wasn’t there were probably making him look even guiltier than he already did. So, he resolved to sit still, not really paying attention to the words that were streaming through his headphones.

After he had been sitting for a while, David checked the time again. It was 12:37. He had been waiting for almost forty-five minutes, and he was starting to get worried. Well. _More_ worried.

Suddenly, his phone buzzed. He yelped in surprise, and in his haste to pick it up out of the cup holder, it slipped between his fingers and fell in-between his seat and the center console.

“Oh, phooey!” David exclaimed, his voice sounding odd after so many hours of silence. It took a couple minutes, be he finally fished his phone out and checked his messages. There was a new one from Max. He felt a rush of adrenaline as he opened the text.

_“They just left, so go ahead and park in the driveway. I’ll be out soon, I don’t have very much to bring with me,”_ David read quickly. He pulled off his headphones, threw them in the back seat and jammed the key into the ignition. His car sputtered to life, and David pulled off the fastest three-point turn in his entire driving career. He went as quickly as he could (while still remaining under the speed limit) as he drove down the street to Max’s house.

Their driveway was U shaped, so David wouldn’t even have to back out when he left. He drove up, put the car in park right outside the front door, and drummed his fingers on the wheel. He was so _tired_ of waiting.

As he sat in the driveway, one minute turned into two, two turned to five, and five soon turned to 10. David only got more and more concerned as the minutes ticked by. Max said he didn’t have much to carry, right? So why on earth was he taking so long?

Maybe it was a prank after all.

David shook his head, willing to give Max the benefit of the doubt. Even if it was all a prank, it was worth it to make sure Max was safe.

David sent one last text. “ _Is everything okay, Max?”_

It was barely even a minute before Max replied with a message that made David’s blood run cold.

_“They locked my door again. I can’t get out.”_

David didn’t even think. As soon as he read that text, he immediately called.

Max picked up right away, and without a second thought, David announced, “I’m coming to get you.”

There was silence on the other end as David shoved open the car door and hopped out of the vehicle. He was already halfway to the front door when Max finally spoke. “What? David, my parents aren’t fucking imbeciles, they always lock up the house. It’s… It’s over. You can just go home now or whatever. Sorry for making you drive all the way out here.”

“Max, I am _not_ giving up that easily!” David declared, putting a hand on his hip as he surveyed the outside of the house. He was thankful that he sounded braver than he felt. His insides felt like they were being constricted by a thousand little rubber bands. He took a deep breath in an effort to calm down as he asked, “Is _everything_ locked?”

“Of course everything’s locked, dipshit! That’s what I just fucking said!” Max insulted him angrily, but David could hear just a hint of panic in his voice. The sound of Max feeling so defeated and alone made David’s eye sting and his heart snap into tiny pieces. David sniffed, refusing to cry. Not while Max was in trouble.

David didn’t even chastise Max for his crude language. Instead, in the calmest voice he could manage, David reassured him, “Max, we’re going to get you out of there, alright? A couple of silly locks won’t stop me! I’m _not_ going to leave you here. I promise.”

There was a pause, and David held his breath. Then, after what felt like years, Max quietly replied, “Okay.”

“Okay?” David repeated, feeling relieved. Max couldn’t lose hope. That was one of the things that David always loved about Max. He never gave up. He never let obstacles get to him. He always found a way to solve his problems. Even if those ways were… misguided.

“Okay,” Max confirmed, sounding more confident. David smiled at his courage. He had been through a lot. More than any kid should.

“That’s the spirit, Max!” David cheered him on. He could almost hear Max roll his eyes through the receiver. “Okay, so. Are you _absolutely sure_ that every window and door is locked?”

“Yes, I’m sure, I just said-” Suddenly Max paused. “Wait. The window above the kitchen sink!”

“Is it unlocked?”

“Yeah, the lock’s been broken ever since my father threw…” Max trailed off again.

“Ever since your father threw, what?” David asked, urging Max to finish the sentence.

“Never mind,” Max deflected the question.  “The important thing is that it’s unlocked.”

“Great! Where is it?”

“Uh,” Max hesitated, obviously thinking. “Well, it’s at the back of the house. I know that much.”

“Okay,” David nodded as he made his way around the side of the house, to the back yard. No fence, which made it easy for him. “If I’m looking at the back of the house, is it to the left or right of the sliding glass door?

“Right, I think,” Max sounded unsure, but David walked that direction anyway.

“Okay, so, there’s three windows. Could you tell me if it’s the middle, left, or right one?”

“It should be the right one. The one that’s wider than the others?”

David tilted his head, confused. “That one’s the tallest.”

“Well ex- _cuuuuuse_ me, it’s not super easy to invert the layout of my house in my _head_ , David!” Max snarled.

“…Do you not spend a lot of time back here?” David asked. Kids needed to play outdoors. It was incredibly important to their development.

“No. I hate nature, remember? Besides, my parents would kill me if I messed up my mother’s rose garden.”

David turned around, surprised he didn’t notice the garden before. It took up the majority of the spacious back yard. There were roses and flowers of every kind growing in neat squares, with gravel rows separating them. In the middle was a very cute looking stone bench under a white garden arch, with vines and flowers growing over it. It was beautiful, but not exactly the best place for a child to play. In fact, there was nothing in the back yard that gave away the fact that a child lived there at all.

 David frowned for just a moment, before he diverted his attention back to the house. It loomed over him, like a giant white stone fortress. The three windows, dark and foreboding, stood before him. “So, is it the left window, then?”

 “I think so? I don’t know, it’s not like you could go up to it and  _ look _ .” Max retorted sarcastically.

 David ignored his comment and stepped over a few bushes in a small flower bed, until he was face to face with the window. He tried to push it up a little bit, and to his delight, it barely resisted at all. “I found it! I’m going to put the phone down for a second while I climb inside, alright?”

 “That’s fine,” David heard Max confirm, and he slipped his phone into the pocket of his jeans.

 The window opened, slowly but surely. Unfortunately, there was a screen blocking the way. David considered punching through it, but he saw little pegs on its frame. He pulled them out with little difficulty, and soon the screen was falling inwards. David caught it and gently pushed it to the side before it could fall or possibly break.

 The window was at the same height as David’s chest, but that didn’t stop him from hoisting himself up and climbing through. He stumbled through the opening, narrowly avoided the sink’s faucet, and landed on the cold wood floor with a crash.

 “Ouchie,” David hissed as he used the counter to pull himself up. He quickly put the screen back on the window, before he looked around.

 David found himself in an incredibly modern kitchen. The white cabinets matched perfectly with the black marble countertops. All the appliances were stainless steel. There wasn’t a dirty dish or stray piece of paper in sight. In fact, it looked like nobody had been there in  _ months. _ Every surface was unnaturally spotless. There were no signs that people actually  _ lived _ there at all, save for one paper on the fridge.

 It was a crayon drawing of three people. There were two very tall, very happy looking people with brown skin and black hair, and one very small, very happy looking child with the exact same skin tone and curly black hair. The tall man on the left was wearing a very poorly drawn black suit and tie, and the tall woman on the right was wearing a gray dress. The little boy in the middle was wearing a bright red shirt. In the bottom right hand corner of the drawing was a caption in black ink, written in much neater handwriting than the rest of the drawing. It read,  _ Maxwell, age 3. _

_              Max drew this, _ David thought.  _ This must be him and his parents. They all look so happy. …What happened? _

David suddenly heard a noise coming from his pocket. He suddenly remembered his phone, and he hastily pulled it out and held it up to his ear.

 “DAVID,” Max’s voice boomed through the speaker. David involuntarily flinched away from the sound.

 “I’m here,” David replied quickly.

 “I’ve been calling your name for like, five minutes, Idiot!” Max covered up his worried tone with anger.

“Sorry, sorry, my phone was in my pocket. I made it in to the house,” David informed him.

“Great. My room’s on the second floor. You should be able to see the stairs from the kitchen.”

David looked around. To his right was just cabinets, but to his left, the kitchen opened up and led to a large kitchen table. Past the table was a living room with ridiculously high ceilings. And above the living room, to the right, was a kind of balcony, with black iron handrails. To the right, past the balcony, was the large front door and similarly large entryway. To the right of _that_ was a huge staircase with matching handrails. David didn’t waste time looking around the impossibly clean rooms as he raced over to the stairs.

As he was climbing, David noticed something that was out of place. On some of the steps, there were small dark stains. They stood out like a sore thumb against the perfectly white carpet. David wanted to inspect them further, but he didn’t have the time or patience. Not while Max was still locked in his room.

David reached the top of the stairs and spoke into his phone, “I’m on the second floor. Which room is yours?”

“At the end of the hall. It’s the last door on the left,” Max instructed him.

David ran down the hall, past simple paintings and nondescript white doors until he reached the very last room in the hall. He reached out and grabbed the doorknob, and he turned it until he heard a click. The door was unlocked. David frantically pushed the door open, his heart pounding.

Suddenly, he was face to face with a very small, very scared looking ten-year-old.

The first thing David noticed was the room. It was huge, and decorated pleasantly, but generically, with tons of space. But there was barely anything _in_ that space. Well, nothing except for loose textbook pages that were covering the floor. There was an empty spine of a math book resting on the carpet, half kicked under the bed.

The second thing David noticed was the bruises. Max’s face, and what little David could see of his arms and hands were covered in nasty dark purple splotches. David sucked in a breath, a chill running up his spine at the sight.

The last thing David noticed were the big, bright, blueish green eyes that were staring up at him.

David stood, frozen in the doorway, not breaking eye contact Max for what felt like an eternity. David wanted to cry. He wanted to wrap Max into a hug and never let go. He wanted to fix and make up for all the ways that Max had been wronged. His heart ached as he looked at him.

“Hey, Max,” David finally whispered.

“Hey, David,” Max whispered right back, as he ended the call on his phone.

David mustered up the biggest, most genuine smile he could manage. “Let’s get out of here.”

“Yeah,” Max nodded, before he grabbed his backpack off of the ground and slung it over his shoulders.

“Are you ready to go?” David asked, stepping out of the way so the doorway was open.

“I was ready _years_ ago,” Max mumbled as he stepped into the hallway. David closed and locked the door behind him. Hopefully Max’s parents wouldn’t notice that he was gone for a little bit.

David knew that there would be legal repercussions. He knew the law, he had studied it practically all night. But the most important thing was making sure that Max was safe. They could worry about going to the police later, once they were at David’s house.

David followed as Max all but ran to the front door. Suddenly max froze in place, and David stumbled as he tried not to fall on him. “What’s wrong?”

“I forgot the fucking staff,” Max gasped, and before David could even process what was happening, Max had dumped his backpack on David’s feet and was racing away, towards the kitchen.

“What?” David called, still confused.

“The staff! I had to hide it in the garage so my parents wouldn’t know that I didn’t throw it away!” Max answered over his shoulder. He disappeared down the hall, but David still heard him shout, “Go start the car!”

David didn’t argue as he grabbed Max’s bag off the floor, opened the front door and ran around the car to the driver’s side door. He hopped into the car and threw the bag into the back seats, silently praying that there wasn’t anything fragile in it.

David turned the key and started the car before he leaned over and pushed over the passenger side door open. His feet tapped impatiently as he waited for Max to return. David checked the time again and found that it was currently 12:05. He hoped that Max’s parents wouldn’t come home early.

The front door suddenly opened, and Max came barreling out, only pausing to make sure the door locked behind him. As he sprinted to the car, David saw what he ran back in to retrieve. It was his broken half of the staff of the Order of the Sparrow. David smiled big at the fact that Max cared enough to keep the staff, let alone waste time by going back in the house to get it.

“You kept the staff!” David cried happily as Max jumped into the car, slamming the door behind him.

“Whatever! Just go!” Max yelled as he threw the staff down on the seats behind him. “Go go go!”

“Right!” David responded as he let out the clutch and stepped on the gas.

“HAHAHA! THAT’S RIGHT, YOU MOTHERFUCKERS! YOU CAN’T KEEP _MAX_ LOCKED UP! HAHAHAHA, FUCK YOU! I’M FREE, YOU FUCKING ASSHOLES! WOO-HOO!” Max hollered out the window as they drove away. He was standing on the seat, leaning his upper body out of the car and flipping off the house as he yelled, which gave David a mini heart attack.

“Max, please sit down and put on your seat belt!” David tugged on the sleeve of his jacket, trying to coax him down.

“Fuck you, Da-AAVID,” Max said as they came to a stop sign and Max almost fell out of the car. He didn’t fuss any more as he quickly sat down and buckled up.

As the car rolled out of the neighborhood, the realization of what they’d done finally seemed to dawn on Max.

“Oh my god,” Max suddenly laughed. David glanced over, and found Max staring at nothing, one hand in his hair, the other gripping the armrest. “We did it. We _actually fucking_ _did it.”_

“Language,” David warned, but he couldn’t help but smile at Max’s amazement.

“I’m free,” Max’s eyes were wide, his voice barely a whisper. As If a switch had been flipped in his mind, Max leaned back in his seat and started to roar with laughter. His shoulders shook as he cracked up, sounding almost manic. David laughed nervously, concerned by Max’s sudden shift in mood. He tried to keep his eyes on the road, but it was hard to not shoot nervous looks at Max every few seconds.

David jumped in shock when he heard a sniff from beside him, in between the laughs. He involuntarily jerked the wheel, and Max put on hand on the dashboard to brace himself. “W-watch the road, dumbass!”

David ignored his order and instead turned to glance at Max. He was crying. And he wasn’t just teary-eyed, no, his cheeks were wet with tears that were falling like rain. David’s heart sank, and his worrying evolved into panic. He had never seen Max _really_ cry like that.

“Max-” David started.

“Shut up. It’s fine, I’m fine, everything’s fine, just shut up!” Max interrupted David, his voice uneven and choppy. David made a tiny noise as Max started to furiously wipe his eyes, his brows furrowed with anger.

David immediately pulled into a nearby parking lot and stopped the car. “Max, you’re clearly _not_ fine!”

“No, shut _up,_ David! Why’d you stop driving? Keep going!” Max ordered, still trying to hide the tears. His hands moved quickly, as if he was trying to push the tears back into his skull. His head was bowed, like he was trying to hide his face. His shoulders were hunched, and he pulled his knees up to his chest so his feet were resting on the edge of the seat. He was completely closed off.

“Max, I know this is a lot to process,” David tried to soothe him in the calmest voice he could manage, despite the fact that he was _freaking out_ on the inside. Oh, why did he have to always cry when other people did? It was _very_ inconvenient. “It’s okay to cry.”

“No, no, it’s _not,_ shut the _fuck_ _up!”_ Max hiccupped. His efforts to stop the silent tears with just his sleeves were failing miserably.

“Max, it’s okay,” David reached out a hand and placed it comfortingly on Max’s shoulder. He jerked away, wincing in pain. In his attempt to get away, his other shoulder hit the car door, and he let out a choked shout of pain.

 David didn’t know what to do. He didn’t know how to react. All he knew was that he needed to help Max. He had no idea how, though. But David did know one thing that always made him feel better.

 Wary of any more unseen bruises or injured, David carefully unbuckled both his own and Max’s seat belts. He carefully leaned forward, and when Max saw David moving, he instinctively covered his face with an arm. David hesitated for only a moment before he gently circled his arms around Max in the most comforting hug he could manage.

 “Wha- Let  _ go _ of me!” Max protested, his voice muffled by David’s flannel shirt.

 “Not until you admit you’re not okay!” David stated decisively, his arms secure but light around Max. He wouldn’t let him get away, but he definitely didn’t want to hurt him.

 “Fuck you! I’m  _ fine!  _ Let go of me, asshole!” Max growled, squirming in David’s grip, still crying. His hands pushed against David’s chest as he tried to break free. “Get  _ off of me!  _ LET ME _ GO!” _

 For a brief moment, David worried that he had made a terrible mistake. Max wasn’t a very affectionate person. Would this make him even more closed off? Did David just ruin their already shaky friendship?

 David ignored his worried and rubbed soothing circles on Max’s shoulders, determined to not let go. He didn’t know what was right for Max, but he had to try. He had to do  _ something. _

 “LET ME  _ GO _ !” Max yelled again, but his voice cracked, and his struggling started to subside. It seemed like he was just fighting out of habit, like his heart wasn’t in it anymore. “Fuck you! Let me go, let me go, just let me…”

 Suddenly, Max stopped resisting all together. David sat, stunned, as Max’s arms shifted from pushing David away to wrapping around him. Max’s tiny fists grabbed the fabric on the back of David’s shirt as he trembled in his arms.

 David quickly shook off his shock and he pulled Max as close as he could. David wasn’t surprised to find that he was crying too. David let his own tears roll down as Max cried soundlessly into David’s shirt.

“It’s okay to cry, Max,” David murmured as he gently stroked Max’s hair. “You’re safe now. Everything’s going to be okay. I won’t let anything bad happen to you.”

Max didn’t say anything, but David didn’t expect him to.

The two of them sat quietly in the car together, the only sounds coming from the air conditioning and the occasional sniffle. David waited patiently as Max’s body slowly relaxed and his breathing gradually calmed down.

A few minutes passed before Max unceremoniously pushed himself out of David’s arms. David watched as Max’s face turned into a scowl as he looked out the front windshield, avoiding David’s eyes. He crossed his arms and angrily sat back in his seat, as if he wanted to sink into the leather, out of sight.

David couldn’t help worrying. It seemed like worrying was all he was doing recently. “Max, we really should talk-”

“NO,” Max exclaimed, still not meeting David’s gaze. “I _don’t_ want to talk about it.”

David frowned, once again unsure of what to do. But, eventually, he decided that pushing Max to talk when he didn’t want to was a _terrible_ idea. “Okay. But just know that I’m always here-”

“Let’s just get out of this godforsaken town,” Max grumbled as he put an elbow on the armrest, held his chin in his hand, and stared out the window.

David sighed. It still was Max, after all. “Okay, Max. Buckle up.”

Max reluctantly put on his seat belt, and then they were off.

Neither one said a word for the rest of the trip.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, I kinda like this chapter, so I hope you did too! Thank you so much for reading, I really, really appreciate it!  
> I'm going on a school trip to Germany for a while, and then I'm going camping after that, so I won't be back for about three weeks. I wanted to get this chapter out before I left! Thank you for your patience! I've kinda been on a writing kick recently, haha.  
> Thanks again for reading! I hope you have a great day!


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